Derailment
by D.M.P
Summary: Ever see those subway performers, playing a tune or reciting a lyric for spare change? One performance can trigger many things... Warning: Mild slash


Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, therefore I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters.

Author's Note: The following is the result of reading poetry for an hour, and Shakespeare the hour before that. If it is too flowery, please bear with me; that was Sara and William talking. ^_^

Also, this story involves the topic of m/m relationships. Please do not read if you feel uncomfortable about such a topic. I will not tolerate any flames made by readers who have reviewed only to express their biased opinion without reading the story first. Thank you for your consideration.

DERAILMENT

by D.M.P.

Remus was never much into poetry. It wasn't that he found it boring; it was just too strong for him. That is what poetry is, the essence of emotion. Such powerful made him feel light-headed and weak. The soul of words, all drained down to a concentrate that could stimulate the heart and freeze the mind of all logical thinking.

At least that was how he felt about it.

"After a year I came again to the place;

The tireless lights and the reverberation..."

So why was he standing here at the subway station, listening to this girl read aloud?

"The angry thunder of the trains that burrow the ground,

The hunted, hurrying people were still the same-"

She was bundled up in a heavy winter jacket, jeans, and snow boots. He could not tell exactly what she looked like or her precise age; had she been not making a small spectacle of herself now, he would have never been able to tell her apart from the rest of the hoi polloi here. Huddled in the corner of the station, reciting with profound expression, her clear voice rang out in the small corner that she occupied. By her feet was a small box filled with change and small bank notes. Was she a runaway then, fleeing her home? Was her family out there somewhere, waiting for her? Surely she can't be stranded here out in the beginning of December, when Christmas was only a few weeks away?

Three or four people were standing with him, all silent, all listening. At the moment, none of them realized that this little girl was all by herself, trying to earn a meal that night. All they could hear was her words, echoing out before becoming lost in the mad bustle of the rush hour crowds.

"But, oh, another man beside me and not you!

Another voice and other eyes in mine!

And suddenly I turned and saw again

The gleaming curve of the tracks, the bridge above-

They were burned deep into my heart before,

The night I watched them to avoid your eyes..."

The girl's voice spoke filled with longing and sorrow, yet this voice wasn't her own. It was the voice of the people who stood around her, of the small crowd who lost themselves in her feeling, of Remus, who stood closest to her, who always despised poetry because it stricken him with heart's confusion. And for them all, they did not hear her voice, but the voices within themselves and of long forgotten memories.

For him, the memory was not so long ago, nor was it forgotten. He had tried to forget it, tried to deny it from himself, because this memory stirred strange feelings within him. Feelings he was ashamed to acknowledge, but were there nonetheless.

***

It was summer then, and he was at the subway station. No home, no family, and now abandoned of all possible friends, he stood there. Waiting for a train; maybe or maybe not. That was the way with him. Sometimes, he would just like to watch. To watch and to think about all those Muggle passengers and their destinations. About the fact that they did have destinations, while he was lost. For that was the only identity he possessed: to be lost and confused and forever lonely.

A destiny Remus did not want yet had no choice but to keep.

And then... he came.

Like a whisper in the willows he came, brushing up beside him. Always with that smooth, quiet stride; a certain gait that he must have developed during his years in Azkaban. He had always been so rambunctious before. When they were young, one could always tell when he was coming and going; he had a certain liveliness to his steps. That vigor had toned down, but Remus could tell who he was. He always could.

"Sirius," he whispered.

His old companion said nothing, but held their hands together. That said everything he needed to say.

The two stood silently, watching the coming and going of the trains. No words were uttered between them. Yet what words could express the love they had possessed for each other? Remus himself, who was never good at words anyway, could never express how much this simple moment meant to him. And not just the fact that Sirius was there, risking his life - a fugitive out in the open - just to stand by his side. But to know that Sirius would be there, even for the briefest of moments, and that Remus wasn't alone. That he had a small place, just for now.

They watched the last train shuttle pass them, a speeding snake disappearing into the darkened tunnel. And at last Sirius found the words.

"I looked for you," he said. His voice was hoarse, as if he was not used to speaking in a long while. Like he had no one worth talking to until now. "As soon as I could get away. I looked for you." He repeated the last line with all the feeling he could muster and it soothed his dry voice.

"And you found me," Remus replied.

Both had not ventured to even look at one another. The feeling between them was too great. It was as if a delicate glass wall stood between them, and one glance would smash this pane to bits and scar them both with the sharp glass.

"Come with me."

An invitation, or was it a demand? Sirius' voice was so low that Remus couldn't tell.

Remus turned away. Not here, not now, he seemed to say in a silent voice. Please, not in a place so public. 

Sirius sensed this and took a firm grasp of his hand. He pulled them through the crowds, far beyond the platforms, the shouting conductors, and the trains that slithered and darted into their wormholes, hissing by with a quick rumbling.

To a lone, darkened corner they went to, away from prying eyes. Remus looked away; he remembered looking away into the mass of people rushing by him. Then at the steel tracks down below, just a dozen meters away, deserted of trains. Burning into his mind, that image of a train zooming past, constant, wordless.

He suddenly felt betrayed by that image, for it didn't fit him. No, not with Sirius so close by, not when they were here just for themselves like this. He felt... oh for the word...! Derailment. To fly off the tracks and out of control. That was what he was feeling.

"Do you remember...?" was the next thing Sirius asked. Remus couldn't meet his stare; he couldn't break the glass. "Do you remember..?"

Finally, he nodded. "I remember," he whispered, and looked up into those dark eyes. "Before..."

"Yes, before." Sirius nodded. He was facing Remus and had both hands on his shoulders. Remus could feel the warmth of his touch, how close Sirius was to him. Scant centimeters. And Remus felt that he would lose control. He could crash and the glass would break.

"Do you want it to be as before?" Sirius asked. "Before that night when James and Lily...? When we were still...?" Strange, how could he not finish his sentences. Yet the meaning was still there. Yes, they had living together before; yes, they had been lovers. But could they do so again? That was the underlying question. Sirius waited for a response.

"I..." Remus looked away. Why was he hesitating? Why could he suddenly not speak? Was all those years of grief still turbulance within him, those years when he thought that he had lost his only love forever? Was that it? God, for all these years he still loved Sirius. And he knew that Sirius still felt the same way.

Yet why could he not speak now? Did he want this? Did he wish it would be as before?

Surprisingly, shockingly, Remus was confused. And he looked out into the silent mass of people and found his reason there.

"Not here," he found himself saying, "Not now. Not in a world so public..."

"What?" Sirius was amazed.

Remus shook his head, trying to sort out that wild desire from his sane logic. "I-I can't."

"You can't." Two stone hard words forcefully repeated.

"The world..."

"Who cares about the world?" Sirius snapped.

A frightened look came to Remus' eyes. The glass was shattered.

"I've been gone from the world for thirteen years! Damn the world and their standards!"

"You don't know... You don't know the world like I do," Remus said softly. 

"What do you mean? What happened that I don't know of? That I haven't suffered through enough with??"

Remus tried to turn away, but Sirius' grasp upon him was firm. "Tell me," he said. "Tell me why."

"It's... it's for many things..." Remus said slowly, his eyes roaming as to not meet Sirius' stare. How could he pick up the pieces, now that it has broken! The shards hurt him and they scattered at the slightest wind! "For what people think you are, for who I am, for who _we_ are... People can not accept us and I don't want either of us to be hurt from this!" The words came out too fast.

"Oh." Sirius cast his eyes downward and he let go. "I understand..."

"Just not now..." Remus compromised. "Later, when the world comes to understand..."

Sirius' head lifted up and their eyes met for the first time. "People will never understand," he growled in a harsh voice. "There is always hate and always ignorance in the world. I learned that years ago and you know it too." Sirius turned away. "I will always be hated for crimes that I did not commit. You will always be hated for crimes of your identity which you are not at fault. And we..." He trailed off for a bit but had the strength to continue. "We will always be hated for crimes that only exist in ignorance."

Remus was at a loss. "But later..."

"We will meet again and see." Sirius leaned over and gently kissed his love. A chaste promise, that kiss; a bittersweet touch that Remus will never forget. "Time will pass, and we shall see if the world can change for us." He was backing away, losing himself to the crowd. "Or maybe we are the ones who have to change the world," he called out.

Regret. Why did he say such things! Of course, of course, they could make the world understand if they only tried.... Remus wanted to take back what he said. Yes, you are right, Sirius! We can make the world accept us for who we really are! We are innocent and in love, and we can make the world understand that!

But the crowds were vast and Sirius was gone, disappearing as silently as he had come.

Remus was lost again.

***

"When you were saying, 'Oh look up at me!'

When you were saying, 'Will you never love me?'

And when I answered with a lie. Oh then

You dropped your eyes. I felt your utter pain.

I would have died to say the truth to you...."

Her words trailed off; she couldn't finish. Not because the emotion in her voice came to a climax she that could not progress with, nor because trouble had come with the station guards, who often stopped public performers. It was because the scant audience was leaving, dropping the occasional coin or two in the little box. They had either lost interest, were missing their trains, or refused to hear the end for reasons only known to them.

The girl sighed and closed the book she was reciting from. Quickly snatching the box up in her hands, she seemed to melt back into the dark corner, huddled over the money. Remus stood there, waiting when the others had left. He stepped toward the girl.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

The girl snapped her head up and clutched the box tighter to her chest. "It's mine," she growled, "I earned it."

"I know, I know..." Remus went down on one knee so that he could be at eye level with the sitting girl. 

She scurried back with a fierce look in her eyes. "Stay back," she threatened, "or I'll scream and send the station guards after ya."

"I just want to ask you something, miss."

The girl looked cautiously at Remus. "Go on then," she said coarsely. "But I'm not one of those streets whores." She glared defiantly at him. "Don't do favors for nobody."

"I wasn't going to ask." He reached out his hand. "May I see that, miss?" he asked.

The girl looked down at her book and pressed it to her chest tighter, as if it was more important than the money. She stared at him with dark, unfathomable eyes, a stare which Remus met. Then, after a bit, she conceded. Wordlessly, she handed the volume to him.

"What's your name?" 

"Sara Teasdale."

He glanced at the cover. _Rivers to the Sea_ by Sara Teasdale. The girl was obviously lying; that must be the name she told the officers who questioned her on their daily rounds. But he needn't know her real name if she did not wish to give it.

Flipping to the bookmarked spot where she was reading from, he scanned the last lines. The girl watched him, her suspicion gone.

"Why do you do this?" he asked wonderingly.

"Because," the girl sat up straighter, "it's better than whoring yourself. And it gives people light when they need it, if they ever bother to see it." She finished proudly, "I want to cause a derailment. To throw people off their tracks and make them see something new."

Remus smiled at her. What big dreams for a poor street girl reading poetry.

Handing the book back to her, Remus got to his feet. He reached into his pocket and got out a crumpled pound note. It was a good amount of the little Muggle money he possessed. Handling it to her, he said, "Have a Merry Christmas then, miss."

The girl accepted the note with awe. "Thank you, sir!" she gasped, suddenly becoming polite. Stuffing the bill into her pocket, she was already making calculations in her head. If she used her money sparingly, this could last 'til the new year. Then she could bunk at the shelter for the rest of the winter... 

She looked up again to thank him once more, but saw no one but the swarming crowds. She was alone.

Past the crowds, Remus walked hurriedly away with his hands in his pockets, looking downwards at the titled floors. The roar of the leaving train coming in filled his ears. 

Yet still he heard that girl starting up again, conducting her show to the crowd waiting for the next ride. Reciting words from a long-dead lady, hoping to change the world in her own small way.

He too, wanted to change the world. Change it with Sirius. 

Her voice rang out from the little corner, fresh and pure for the few moments before losing themselves in the maddened crowds. Repeating that same poem no less, or was she finishing it? Ending her dropped performance, just for him?

"After a year I came again to the place-

The hunted, hurrying people were still the same...."

The girl caused a derailment of his heart; she let in some light. And Remus saw that there could be light everywhere, even in this insignificant station, even in a taboo love affair, if only people would stop and see...


End file.
